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Obi-Wan looked into the deep blue eyes that reminded him of the ocean. He still couldn’t believe that this man had taken him as an apprentice and he wanted nothing more than to be perfect in those eyes. “There is nothing to forgive. I should have gotten it right the first time.”
“Oh, my Obi-Wan. You must learn to crawl before you can walk. Let us start again, but this time we will use cool water.
They both bowed to each other slightly and then came slowly to their knees sitting opposite of the other. Before them both were utensils that were needed for the ceremony. They looked to be ancient in the eyes of the padawan. “These were passed down to me by Master Yoda. They are indeed very ancient, but there will come a time when they will be yours.” Qui-Gon swallowed his emotions. He thought he would never have another chance to teach and pass this on to another after Xanatos broke his trust and his heart.
Obi-Wan reached out gently and touched the decorative lacquered box. “That is the box that holds the tea. There are many kinds of tea, my padawan, such as powdered teas, tea leaves and sometimes it even comes in bricks. For this ceremony, we will use a powdered tea, of the green variety. I find it keeps me centered when I am in the temple and it is very good for healing.” The master carefully opened the box breathed deep, smelling the spicy fragrance of his childhood. “This was Master Yoda’s favorite. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve made this for him, even now.” He grinned at the boy and still saw the fear and nervousness held deep within. ‘You did this by not taking him sooner. It will take time and patience, Jinn.’ He thought to himself and then offered his ward the tea box.
“It smells wonderful.” The voice was still timid.
“First we will set the table. There are five things for this ceremony we will always need, the tea box, a clean white cloth, the whisk, a bowl and the scoop. Master Dooku gave me the whisk; it was carved from a single reed of bamboo by a farmer from a distant planet on the outer rim. He said it reminded him of me, it was strong and could bend without breaking.” The distance look in his master’s eyes reflected a certain kind of sadness. Obi-Wan knew there was a story there, but didn’t think he had the right to intrude on his Master’s personal life.
Qui-Gon started to set the table, the bowl directly in the center, the tea box to the upper left of the bowl, and the whisk to the bottom left, perpendicular to the box. He unfolded the white cloth and smiled at the boy. “We fold the cloth as such.” He carefully folded the cloth diagonally and then carefully set it to the right side of the bowl. Finally he took the scoop and set it across from the whisk.
“This is the time of reflection, my young one. This is the time we take for ourselves, time together. We will have many missions, many lessons but we still need to take time for our bodies and our minds to heal. This is time for our bond to settle and come together where nothing else can touch us.”
Obi-Wan looked up slightly from the tea set, a smile brightening his features. They would heal this rift, this was the way. Qui-Gon went on to teach his apprentice about each utensil and each step of the ceremony. They practiced for well over a week, with warm or cooling water, as Obi-Wan healed his hand from the first attempt. They were growing closer and mending the rift that started before Bandomeer, but Qui-Gon still refused to fulfill the ceremony without the practice water.
He still worried about his Padawan, and didn’t want to see him harmed once again, but in all things, Obi-Wan was stubborn. It had been a long day of council meetings when Qui-Gon opened the door to their quarters and came upon his apprentice kneeling calmly before the small table, everything laid out for evening tea, including a boiling pot of water.
Obi-Wan quickly jumped to his feet and approached his master, his hands outstretched to take the robe from the Master’s shoulders. No words were needed as the padawan carefully placed the large cloak upon the rack near the door, ushering his master to the table.
They both once again kneeled across from the other, Qui-Gon raising his eyebrow just a bit as his padawan started the ritual. Taking the small cloth, he gently wiped the lip of the bowl, snapping the cloth and refolding it to place to the right of the bowl. He looked up and gave a dazzling smile to the older man, feeling the pride pour over their bond.
Qui-Gon just nodded in return to indicate his readiness to continue. Obi-Wan’s hands moved with grace as they opened the lacquered box and gently tapped the contents to settle. Taking the scoop in his other hand, he gathered up the tea. Tapping it gently against the box to pack the wooden utensil, he then put the contents into the bowl. Flipping the scoop upside down, he gently placed it back to the table to the left of the bowl.
As the boy reached for the steaming kettle of water, the master tensed remembering the first incident. His body clenched and he had to keep himself from reaching out within the force to assist. This was his padawan’s ceremony and he must let him succeed or fail on his own. The hardest thing in a master’s life was letting his padawan learn and sometimes fall.
Obi-Wan reached out for the water, held within the kettle and very carefully and slowly began to pour it into the bowl. The steam began to rise as the tea and the water mixed, but Obi-Wan quickly stopped the water flow and set the kettle once more to the side. The triumphant smile was something Qui-Gon would never forget, it would forever be a memory in the years to come. Obi-Wan continued the ceremony and brought the whisk to bear. Mixing the tea and the water, he gently set the whisk aside.
“I offer this tea, made by my hands.” Obi-Wan brought the bowl gently to him, and then offered it to his master.
“I accept this tea, prepared by your hand.” Qui-Gon took the bowl and turned it one hundred and eighty degrees, the part of the bowl that had been previously wiped by the cloth directly in front of him. He brought the bowl to his mouth and sipped the hot soothing liquid.
“I offer this tea, readied by your hand. Will you drink with me?” Qui-Gon once again held the bowl before his student, the young hands trembling with nervousness and wonder.
“I accept your humble offer.” Obi-Wan took the bowl and turned it as his Master had before, drinking from the same spot. Their bond flowed together with pride and love. After the warm fluid quenched the padawan’s parched throat, he set the bowl in the center and once again picked up the white cloth, wiping at the lip of the bowl once again.
“Until we have need again.” The young boy folded his hands in his lap and bowed his head to the master sitting across from him.
“Perfect, absolutely perfect in every way, my Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon stood up from the table and pulled the boy into his arms, embracing him tightly. “Times may be rough and we may often fight, but together in this ceremony we can put aside those differences and just be as one.”
Obi-Wan smiled up at the master and snuggled tightly into the embrace. He once felt alone and unwanted, but in this strong embrace he finally felt, home